Spell of Summoning by Anna Abner

Author:Anna Abner [Anna Abner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 17279628
Publisher: Mild Red Books
Published: 2013-01-20T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Holden clutched Rebecca’s hand, not as confident as he let on. He loathed being crammed in the room with two other people and a table along with all of Rebecca’s bedroom furniture. He stayed put, but sweat bloomed like a second skin under his clothes.

Damian spoke in what sounded like Russian. Or Arabic, maybe. For all Holden knew, it was a made-up language. Whatever it was, Damian spoke rapidly and with great emotion while keeping his eyes closed and his hand tight around Holden’s fingers.

Grams stood by the window, but no other spirits appeared. Damian wasn’t a well-schooled necromancer if he didn’t have a spirit companion. At least that’s what all the websites said. But the guy had power. The air in the room shifted under his spell. The atmosphere warmed several degrees, and the spell marks around Rebecca glowed a deep red.

Whatever Damian was doing was affecting the summoning spell. No new spirits appeared. But something was building.

Damian kicked up the tempo of his nonsensical plea, and Becca’s fingers squeezed Holden’s in occasional nervous pulses.

Damian burst out in English, startling both Holden and Rebecca, who physically jumped, “Make yourselves known to us, spirits. Make yourselves known!”

Silence. Not a bug croaked, not a curtain rustled. No one seemed to even breathe. But the room swelled with a threatening presence.

“Do you feel anything?” Grams asked, circling the table. “Because I’m getting a bad vibe, bubba. It’s never a good idea to poke a rattlesnake.”

Buster seemed to agree. He barked and barked, bounding the length of the balcony and then back again, his long claws clicking. He paused at the sliding glass door and howled.

Holden had never seen his dog act like this. The big guy was sensitive to spirits and magic, but not even sniffing Rebecca’s demon had freaked him out this badly.

There was a grumble in Holden’s bones, and his insides vibrated with an uncomfortable and unfriendly power. Big-time, scary power. Way more than he’d ever felt before.

Jesus Christ.

Damian wasn’t channeling an unseen friendly spirit. He was tapping the demon directly. Holden hopped to his feet, breaking Damian’s human spell circle.

“Grams, protect her,” he shouted.

Someone—or something—screamed.

Becca touched his arm, and he spasmed like she was made of electricity.

He flattened his hands against his ears, his knees giving way. The sound speared through him like an electrical surge. His brain went fuzzy as he pressed his hands tighter and tighter to his ears. But it didn’t do any good. The inhuman bellow only increased in volume.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched, a full body shudder. Wrong, wrong. Everything was upside down and inside out. He panicked. He hadn’t been this close to the black since he was fifteen.

“Holden!”

Rebecca’s voice reached his ears, but barely, and it was like a lifeline. She was okay. And there. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t under the ice. He inhaled, and the dizziness faded.

On the floor on the other side of the table, Damian lay curled on his side, bleeding from both ears.

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